Your tiny hands are frozen, dearie ! Lay your head on Mumma's breast ; When winter nights are chill and dreary. Little birds should be at rest. O, baby mine ! so wan and weary, Momma clasps you. safe and sure; Keep awake one moment, dearie ! , ' [ Hsre'» your Woods' Pojipfltfrnlat ' Cur«.
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Bibliographic details
Evening Post, Volume XC, Issue 71, 22 September 1915, Page 8
Word Count
48Page 8 Advertisements Column 2 Evening Post, Volume XC, Issue 71, 22 September 1915, Page 8
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